u dead, with my knife in your heart. Then the beautiful Senorita Inza
will be mine--all mine! With you dead and gone, I'll have your mine and
your sweetheart."

In this manner he sought to infuriate Frank and lead him to some act of
rashness.

Although Frank's blood was burning like lava in his veins, outwardly he
was wonderfully cool. As always happened in a time of great danger, he
laughed outright.

"You boaster!" he exclaimed.

Del Norte was beginning to breathe heavily from his exertions. Again and
again he struck at Frank, but each time the strokes were parried,
blocked, or avoided. At last he began to realize that the American was a
wonderful fighter with a knife, and, to his dismay, he saw Merriwell
appeared almost as fresh and vigorous as when the fight began.

"Must end it quick," thought Del Norte.

But when he lunged again Frank leaped aside and struck him in the
shoulder, from which the blood flowed swiftly, staining the Mexican's
white shirt.

"The fiends must protect you, gringo!" hissed the wounded man.

"Fair fight!" muttered Red Ben. "Merriwell him win, he git gal."

For a few moments Del Norte's injury seemed to make him fiercer and more
dangerous. A little while he kept Frank on the defensive, and then he
was slashed in the forearm.

Clapping his free hand to the wound, he leaped backward, Spanish oaths
flowing from his lips.

"Him beaten!" whispered the watching Indian. "Merriwell kill him soon
now."

Frank followed Del Norte up.

"Stand up to it, greaser," he urged. "The fight has just begun. You have
threatened to leave your knife in my heart. I could have split yours a
dozen times, but I have spared you. When you are well cut up, I'll wring
from your lips the secret of Inza's hiding place."

"Never!" vowed the Mexican. "If die I do, I'll tell nothing. But I'll
not die! I'll yet kill you!"

Fancying he saw an opening, as Frank's hands were both hanging by his
sides, Del Norte leaped in. He was sent reeling back with another wound,
this time in the ribs.

Frank followed up his failing foe, forcing him to the edge of the
cleared space. He kept close, fearing Del Norte might attempt to flee.
Instead, the man danced round Merry till his back was toward the centre
of the cleared space, while the dark shadows of the scraggy timber was
behind Frank.

Again Del Norte rushed, but this time his wrist was seized and given a
wrench that brought him, with a gasping groan of pain, to his